


Lean On Me

by viserys



Category: Rocketman (2019)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Cheating, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oral Sex, Substance Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 15:20:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20566526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viserys/pseuds/viserys
Summary: Bernie wants to check up on Elton, finds something entirely else first.





	Lean On Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is based solely on events depicted in Rocketman. As always I don't ship real people, nor judge their real life stories I know so little about.
> 
> Shout out to Jess/ilikeyouxactually who inspired the whole thing with just one line during one of our many conversations. 
> 
> The title is reference to Bernie Taupin's lyrics to the song A Love That Will Never Grow Old.

The only thing Bernie is able to think about now is finding Elton.

  
He is looking for him for quite a while already, trying to spot him among people sharing drinks and laughs by the swimming pool. Almost everyone seems to have seen him just a moment ago - _he was standing just there, talking to this guy_ \- but he's nowhere to be found now. Bernie almost laughs at himself. How could he think Elton was there and that he couldn't see him straight away, his presence so vibrant and loud to outshine anything else in his radius? 

He tries in the main kitchen area, but Elton is not in this crowd either. Someone is snorting drugs straight from the kitchen counter. Someone already toppled over the enormous fruit plattter; watermelon pieces wet under fancy shoes, apples scattered across the room like in an orchard. He doesn't even need to ask; he knows no one would be looking any other direction would Elton be present here.

He finally walks out of the house and takes a path around the building, hoping to find his friend in the living room. Somehow he hates this party, he hates to even be here, but he knows he didn't see Elton for too long and he keeps hearing things that are a little too alarming to ignore. What he hopes for is to find all those rumours disproven: to see Elton partying too hard like a rock superstar he is, a glutton for lavishness and shiny things, not a worry in the world. 

What he in fact finds, when he finally stands on the spacious porch, looking through french windows into the living room, is John Reid sitting on a couch. His suit looks expensive as always, his eyes closed, his big hand holding onto blonde curls of a boy kneeling between his spread legs. Bernie freezes mid-step, breath caught in his throat. He doesn't mean to watch this scene for too long, but he cannot avert his eyes, his blood boiling inside, red creeping onto his cheeks. He stays here for a couple of seconds that feel like eternity, hoping against all hope this is not what it looks like. He hopes at least some of the scandalous stories are true and that maybe, just maybe, Elton is somewhere in this room too, having a go with some other man, or just watching, enjoying himself. But no, there's only _the music fucking manager_ and his eager partner, sucking his dick ferociously like his life depends on it. And then John's eyes open and he looks straight at Bernie.  
And then he smiles.

God, how he smiles.

This lazy cat's smile; his eyes close again and his head rolls softly on his shoulder. Reid tugs on young man's hair tighter and makes him suck even faster, and Bernie feels sick.  
He turns around and starts going back to the direction he came from, his head full of only one thing.

  
The only thing Bernie is able to think about now is finding Elton.

He doesn't get far; a couple of steps, really, when someone crashes into him, almost sending him splayed to the grass.

  
\- Watch it! - the man groans, swaying on his feet and trying to go past him at first, until he looks up and finally focuses his eyes enough to recognize him.

  
\- Bernie. - Elton says his name softly and then repeats it - Bernie! You're here!

  
God, he's drunk. He reeks of booze, his colourful robe wrapped around him like crumpled butterfly wings, his face grey and sagged; but then he does something short of miracle - he gives him a smile. Not a huge stupid grin like he used to years ago, when they both were still very young. It's a short smile, as quick and blindingly bright as a lightening; his eyes wet for a split of a second before he composes himself. Or rather before he feels too weak again to even stand straight or focus his gaze anymore.

  
\- Hey, man. Some fancy party you're having here, eh? - Bernie tries, hoping his voice is not shaking too obviously.

  
\- I'm looking for John. Have you seen him? - he sways on his feet and Bernie reaches with his hand to steady him.

  
Elton flinches. He fucking _flinches_, staring at Bernie's hand like it was a viper. It's over in a second, but Bernie sees red. He also sees something behind the violet tinted sunglasses - there's a shadow of a bruise, crawling on Elton's cheekbone, almost invisible if he stands just at the right angle.  
He seems to realize what is happening and eventually relaxes, but his shoulder is clammy and tense under Bernie's palm, and he doesn't let go.

  
\- I need to find John. - he says with a new urgency in his hoarse, deep voice.

  
\- You need to sit down, Elton. - Bernie says as calmly as he possibly can, but he already knows it was not a good idea. He sees his friend's eyes getting wet again behind those glasses; he hears the break in his voice when he says, this time a little higher and softer:

  
\- I just want John. Please help me find him, Bernie.

  
His voice is drunk and slurry, his breast heavy breathing, like a child's ready to burst into tears, and Bernie hates that Reid probably can hear this conversation all too well from his soft spot on the couch. Fuck; if you close your eyes and listen very carefully you can almost hear guy's mouth making all sorts of wet noises around his cock.

  
\- I... - he swallows hard, even though his mouth is dry as a bone - I've heard him being called to the office for a phone call. I think it's some business. Let's wait for him in the garden, shall we?

  
Elton looks for a while over Bernie's shoulder, frowning. Bernie almost wants to grab him by the arm and lead him to the fucking window to see just what an asshole he craves for this whole time, but he knows it won't be any good. The rock superstar is gone; there's just a mess of a boy hidden somewhere behind this horrible mask of an adult man, he cannot possibly see this and not break down.  
He gently pushes Elton's arm in opposite direction and his friend's body just gives up to the touch, almost glad to have someone else making the decision for it.

\- Yeah. Yeah, that's for the best. Not to disturb him. - he agrees meekly, and Bernie can't stop imagining how Reid's face would feel under his fist.

  
They walk slowly, Bernie's arm around Elton's waist, trying to hold him up for just a couple of more steps.  
When they finally sit in the garden - there's no one else here; sun is shining softly through trees branches, and most importantly, you cannot see living room's french windows from there - Elton slowly places his head against the garden chair and closes his eyes.

  
\- It's nice to have you here. - he mumbles, but Bernie cannot stop himself:

  
\- What happened to your face, Elton?

  
Man's eyes open and search for Bernie's glare. He thinks for a moment and then responds calmly, waving his ringed hand in a dismissive way.

  
\- You know how it is. You party too hard, you slip on those stairs, you hit the rail.

  
\- And how are the things between you and Reid these days? - Bernie asks, almost violently.

  
Elton is too drunk and too high to even realize he's being interrogated. For once he's too spent and tired for raging, so he just responds with bleak voice:

  
\- Oh, he's so good to me. 

  
Bernie keeps silent. His imagination goes from a wet sound of broken nose to a picture of Reid's face being covered with dirt in some deep ground hole on a farm, one shovel at a time.

  
\- He's such a great manager. And he keeps tolerating me, which is not something anyone can do, right? - a little laugh. A little glimpse of the sassy person he used to be. - He keeps up with the rock'n'roll.  
His voice goes soft again; lashes flutter against his cheeks and breathe slows down, like he's telling himself a story goodnight. - I don't deserve him, you know.

  
Bernie feels metal in his mouth. He almost needs to spit on the ground - or in John Reid's face for that matter.

  
\- No, you don't. - he agrees, his own voice heavy. - You deserve some...

  
\- Even when he gets angry. - Elton interrupts him, like he wasn't even listening, sheltered somewhere high and safe. - He tries to be patient, Bernie, he really does, he's so good at this.

  
Bernie opens his mouth to stop this bullshit; he cannot go through a single second more of it. He just wants to discuss music; he wants to go out with him and have fun, not remembering. He wants old Elton to be back so badly, so they could go somewhere without people covered in glitter and coke, somewhere no one would stare in their faces and whisper behind their backs.  
He wants Elton's eyes to be bright and sober again, and to hear his normal voice, so pure and excited.  
He opens his mouth but then he hears the voice behind his back, and sees Elton practically breaking his neck turning around.

  
\- Elton. Bernie, good to see you again.

  
John stands here, his suit pristine as ever, his hair in full order. Elton watches him as a prey watches a predator, his breath visibly caught in his chest. Then he releases the air once he sees Reid smiling and him  
and hears:

  
\- I'm sorry, sweetheart, that I didn't come earlier. I had to pick a phone call. Business, you know.

  
His eyes meet Bernie's- and again, this cat's smile on his lips makes Bernie's heart pounding with rage.

  
\- Now, can you please cover yourself and be nice, and come to talk to this bloke I told you about? He's waiting for two hours already for you to get sober enough to have a nice chit chat about our  
arrangement.

  
Reid leans over Elton and kisses his forehead oh, so softly. Elton closes his eyes and smiles under the kiss.  
Reid's hand cups his cheek almost gently, golden ring on his finger slightly pressing a bruise on the other man's cheek. There's a short grimace of pain on Elton's face but it melts away immediately like a snowflake in the sun.

  
\- Promised you'd be good, remember? - John asks with his heavy accent, and Bernie cannot stop Elton from nodding as much as he wishes he could.

  
\- Yeah. - he admits quietly. - Let's go to him.

  
Elton sways when he stands up. He looks back at Bernie and smiles one of his hopeless, lovely smiles:

  
\- See you in a bit, right? You're staying?

  
Bernie looks at his feet and breathes the hot air. He wishes he washome - or on some entirely different planet now.

  
\- Yeah, sure, I'm staying. See you. - he promises.

  
All he can do now is to watch John taking his arm around Elton's waist and guiding him away. Elton doesn't look back and the air is heavy, and Bernie almost chokes.


End file.
